The Nation's War

Following the events of Ragnarok, the vast majority of those humans who managed to make it across the Bifrost, stayed in Asgard. The land, being large for so few Aesir, could easily accommodate those humans who wanted to stay. Three human Kingdoms arose upon the lands of Asgard; Idavol, Vangr and Dalir, with three powerful human Kings chosen by the Aesir to rule these lands. For a while, there was peace and trade and prosperity.

Northmen wil be Northmen however, and the son of King Elric Ubbarson, Alfric Elfricson was a bloodthirsty warrior, who did not like peace, or trade, but prosperity; prosperity he cherished - his own.

Alfric was just a child when Ragnarok hit; a child who had been out in the wilds with friends when the war came to town. When Freya had ridden to marshal their town to flee, the Kings son Alfric had been missing; last seen heading for the woods earlier that day. And it was Freya who had found him; the boy was wide-eyed, staring and almost insensible, sat at the base of a tree with his friends torn to shred around him. Freya had scooped him up and deposited him with his father before riding off.

As Alfric grew his thirst for blood grew with him, and raising a war band he went a'Viking on the other two human Kingdoms. At first this was not commented on or given much notice at all; this is what Northmen did, and all knew their would be raiding in return in due time. But Alfric got savage, and cruel; taking more than a raiders share, and burning what was left. All along the coasts of Idavol and Vangr towns and villages were left in ash.

Complaints were made to King Elfric, and eventually the King had to take action against his son. But he never got to; the night before the trial was planned for Alfric's deeds, the King was murdered in his bed..... and Alfric became King.

Trapped in his city Hrikaras on the Northern coast, Alfric and unable to escape by sea; the armies of Idavol and Vangr swept through the streets, taking everything in their path to the ground. The men and women under Alfric rallied to his call, appeased and coveted of the acclaim they had gained by Alfric's ways, and fought beside him with ferocity. Leaving them to fall in his name, Alfric escaped...

With Hrikaras in tatters, the combined armies of Idavol and Vangr camped outside the city walls, and the looting began; but the warriors moved about the streets and houses in silence, not in merriment at victory. They had not found what they had thought they would find. Lavish accommodations with the treasure their enemy were known to have looted were few; instead there was filth and rot, deprivation and waste. The city did not look like the home of a King, but of a madman who had brought his people into his madness with him.

After 18 months of cat and mouse warfare, Alfric's men were few. But finally, through information gained from Vangr scouting troops, it was found he was holed up with his remaining men, in the town of Lotofr. Learning from the past 18 months of hunting, the full army did not go in, but instead set up camps and ambushes along all routes out of town, whilst a small band went within to find their foe.

Amongst this small party of nine, were Queen Gramhelds's two sons; Thorn and Ashar. It took them two days to find out for certain where Alfric was located, but on the second night, they were sure of their mark. In the dead of night, the men neutralised those guards surrounding him, but when they entered the bed chamber where Alfric was meant to be sleeping; the bed was empty. Dismayed, the two brothers searched high and low, hands over their mouths choking back bile. Just like Hrikaras, the room smelt of damp, rot and human waste; the rest of the party were convinced Alfric had once again given them the slip.

But the brother's weren't so sure, and as the ceiling creaked, they looked at eachother in triumph. The loft! Leaping to action, the two raced up the ladder located in the corner and found the frantic Alfric trying to dig his way through the thatch in the roof, as the party were talking below. They set upon him, wrestling him to the ceiling boards in a flail of limbs, fists and steel. The boards collapsed and the three of them fell to the bedroom floor beneath.

When the dust settled, the brothers rolled off. Within the chest of Alfric were the blades of both brothers. Alfric was dead; killed in his bedroom, just like his father before him...